


Moral Support

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 16:17:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard goes on a solo-mission above the snowy peaks of the planet Zanethu, investigating the wreckage of the MSV Estanivico. Despite having no need for a gun, it turns out this is one mission she can't handle alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moral Support

**Author's Note:**

  * For [axioa](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=axioa).



> Special thanks to axioa over at tumblr for submitting the prompt for this! The eventual 500-word drabble seemed a little too long for just a tumblr post, so I figured to add it here as well. Enjoy!
> 
> (EDIT: I based this fic on my experiences of playing this mission a couple of months back. Now that I'm replaying ME2, I realize that the crash site isn't actually on snowy mountain peaks. Don't know what made me think it was snowing in the first place. Please ignore the inaccuracies during your read-through. Thanks.)

\---------------------------------

               Shepard took a deep breath and paused to balance herself. She was glad of her armor and the padded exoskeleton underneath it. It kept the cold at bay – mostly – and let her concentrate on what really mattered. Slipping was _not_ an option on top of these snowy, wind-blown peaks, especially when standing on a wrecked freighter balancing precariously over a hundred meter drop.

               The tiny speakers inside her helmet whirred into life.

               _“Hey Shepard.”_ growled a familiar voice in her ear. _“How’re you doing down there? You know I’m still pissed that you didn’t let me tag along for back-up.”_

Shepard couldn’t spare the focus to repress a small smile from her face. “I thought turians hated the cold. Anyway, not that I don’t love talking to you when you’ve finally stopped calibrating, Garrus, but I’m a bit busy over here.”

               The strain of her voice must’ve gotten through the microphone. Garrus’s tone changed to one of slight alarm. _“What’ve you gotten yourself into this time, Shepard? Are there hostiles?”_

               “No, I’m just…” Shepard gritted her teeth. “… balancing. On a thin beam maybe fifty feet up. It’s…” Her right foot shuddered and the beam tottered slightly. She held her breath for a moment, and when it steadied, continued, “… wobbling. Pointy rocks at the bottom.”

She laughed unconvincingly. “Huh. Reminds me of your head.”

               Garrus swore quietly. “ _Do you want me to page Joker and send down an extraction team?”_

              “Negative. There’re broken beams above me. It won’t be a clear pick-up, and the wind blowback from the shuttle thrusters might send me falling instead.”

 _“Then I’ll go down there myself. Help you backtrack._ ”

              Shepard was already halfway across the beam – maybe two meters to go – and seemed just as dangerous going back anyway. She swallowed and forced her eyes forward, eyeing the datapad at the damaged room across the ravine. “How about you talk me through this instead? I could use the moral support.”

_“You can do it and… don’t look down?”_

              “Try again – this thing is just about half a foot wide. I’ve got to make sure I’m stepping on something.” Shepard glanced down at the beam. And then at the painful-looking drop beneath it. She tried to swallow again, but her throat had dried up. “Shit.”

_“Why did you even think that crossing that thing would be a good idea? … Okay. Don’t be nervous. You can get through this. And if you die, we’ll just bully the Illusive Man to bring you back again. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Baby steps.”_

              A slight wheeze transferred through to Garrus’s end; Shepard was almost genuinely laughing. Good, he was getting somewhere.

_“Are you moving?”_

              “Y-Yeah.”

_“One foot after another, Shepard.”_

              Ultimately the two-meter journey took up a good fifteen minutes, and not for one moment did the turian stop talking in order to get her across. A great, tooth-filled smile stretched his mandibles upon hearing news of her success.

_“Job well done, Commander.”_

              “Thanks,” Shepard breathed truthfully as she lifted the datapad from the rusted remains of a desk. “I’ve had enough of this frozen wastela…” Her voice stopped. Suddenly, a multitude of human swearwords started flowing through Garrus’s comm link so fast that his translator didn’t even have the time to translate all of them. “… damn it, the datapad’s corrupted. Not even a single useful—”

              He interrupted her amusedly. _“Shall I prepare the lounge for when you get back up?”_

              She sighed. “I owe you a drink, Vakarian.”

_“I’m just glad you made it. See you on the ship, Shepard.”_


End file.
